USS Iowa
by ZVArmy
Summary: Roman Reigns was delighted to be appointed as Executive Officer on the US Navy's newest nuclear submarine. However, when the champagne bottle fails to break against the boat's hull at the launching ceremony, he has to wonder if the Iowa is cursed? When Captain Bischoff dies of a stroke and is replaced by Roman's ex-girlfriend, will things go from bad to worse?
1. Chapter 1

With great pride, Captain Eric Bischoff surveyed his latest command. Iowa was the first in a new class of nuclear submarine, which would be named after her, and she was soon to become the pride of the US Navy. At 625 feet long and 30 feet wide, she was the biggest submarine the world had ever seen. With her capacity to carry an astonishing 30 nuclear missiles, she also had the potential to be the most deadly weapon ever constructed. Currently, she was sitting in a dry dock, with men and women of her construction crew swarming over her like ants. Last minute preparations were being made for the launching and naming ceremony, which was less than twenty four hours away.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" Roman Reigns asked. Standing beside his captain at the edge of the dry dock, Reigns looked over the boat with a similar amount of pride. Being given the position of Executive Officer, or XO, on the Iowa was an incredible honour for him, and real career milestone. He was expecting his promotion to captain to be approved in the near future, but serving as second in command during Iowa's sea trials and maiden voyage was more than okay with him. It would be a once in a lifetime experience just to be able to sail with, and learn from Captain Bischoff, who was one of the Navy's most experienced and respected commanders.

"She is. Can you believe that President McMahon and the First Lady are going to be the ones to launch her? He really wants the Russians to pay attention."

"As well they should," Reigns opined. With recent conflicts in the Ukraine and in Syria, tensions between the US and Russia hadn't been so high since the Cold War. Only two weeks earlier, the Russians had shot down an F-16 of the US Air Force, supposedly for flying into Russian airspace, although that allegation had been denied by Washington. "It's about time we gave them a moment of pause."

Bischoff nodded his agreement. He had always prided himself on the fact that he had a close relationship with his officers, and when not on duty he allowed them to address him on first name terms. "Between you and me, Roman? What worries me is that the president seems like a bit of a trigger happy son of a bitch. I'd make a bet that he ordered the air force to fly into Russian airspace to gauge their reaction, and he got one. I'm no diplomat, but launching the Iowa himself seems akin to getting his dick out for a pissing contest with President Rusev. I don't think Rusev takes kindly to that kind of thing either."

"I doubt he'll be particularly delighted about it, no," Reigns said, taking a deep breath as he realised the logic in what his Captain had said. The prospect of sailing on the greatest submarine ever constructed was one thing; the prospect of being ordered to launch enough nuclear missiles at Russia to wipe the entire country off the map was quite another, especially as retaliatory strikes would almost certainly do the same to the US.

"I'd better start thinking about what I'm going to say to him tomorrow. Personally, I'll just be glad to glad to get underway with these trials."

Reigns decided that he couldn't have put it better himself, and grinned. "Aye, sir."

* * *

Admiral Jerry Lawler hadn't expected President McMahon to request that he and the First Lady go on-board the Iowa. It was a relief at least that he hadn't wanted to go below decks for a full tour, as the truth was that the boat was still not fully complete. Six months of sea trials would follow the launching ceremony, with finishing touches being applied by the construction crew inbetween each short voyage. The trials were intended to iron out any problems before the Iowa could finally be handed over to the Navy and given her full USS title, which would then allow her to enter service. Outwardly at least, she already appeared to be immaculate.

"One of our nation's finest achievements, gentlemen," President Vince McMahon said, looking up at the boat's huge sail which towered above them. He then turned and smiled at Lawler and Bischoff. "And she's a mean looking bitch too; just the way she should be."

"She is, Mr President," Lawler diplomatically agreed, although he actually found the comment distasteful. "And we couldn't have a better captain and crew to entrust her to for her trials and maiden voyage."

"I have no doubt," McMahon said. "Captain Bischoff, you have been assigned a very important task. The Iowa is to be the biggest deterrent we have to present to the enemies of our great nation and her allies. And if it comes to it, she will be our front line of offense too."

"Let's hope it _doesn't_ come to that, sir," Bischoff said.

"Right," McMahon nodded, his tone a little dismissive. He clapped his hands together loudly and gestured towards the podium at the side of the dry dock, in front of which the Iowa's crew were now assembled. Family members, friends, and representatives of the world's media were gathered in their designated areas further back. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

"Yes, Mr President," Lawler said, gesturing for his Commander in Chief to lead the way, followed by the First Lady, who had so far done nothing more than follow her husband around and smile. Bischoff had the impression that was exactly how McMahon liked it

* * *

In Moscow, things were different. President Alexander Rusev's wife was also one of his inner circle of advisers. It made for a complicated relationship at times to say the least, but they had gotten used to making it work. They were watching Iowa's launching ceremony from the comfort of one of the huge living rooms in their mansion on the outskirts of the Russian capital.

"He's taking a lot of pride in that thing," Lana said, over the top of the rhetoric that McMahon was spouting from his podium.

"That fucking sub is a first-strike weapon, and he's not even trying to hide the fact," Rusev said. His voice was quiet, but that did nothing to hide his anger. "Their current fleet no longer carries nuclear missiles, but this 'Iowa' will do, and he wants us to know it too. Six months from now, he could park that thing and it's hundreds of nuclear warheads off our coast and there's not much we could do about it, in terms of defending ourselves."

" _Hundreds_ of warheads?" Lana's eyes had widened.

"Eight warheads per missile," Rusev said. "Could even be twelve if he violates the treaty the US signed years ago. Either way, if McMahon pushes the button, that thing wipes the Motherland off the map."

"But our land based missiles would launch and do the same to them."

"That's always been the deterrent in the past. Mutually assured destruction, they call it. Maybe he's confident they can take out our missiles before they reach their targets? I don't intend to find out. We have roughly six months before they can put the Iowa into active service. I'm going to make sure we use that time as best we can. I'm going to order that every fast attack submarine we have in reserve be put back into active service as soon as possible, regardless of cost."

"That will be noticed in Washington," Lana cautioned.

"I want it to be. Tomorrow, I'm going to telephone McMahon directly and tell him that if he orders the Iowa to come anywhere near Russian waters, I'll sink her without warning."

Lana gulped and felt her blood run cold as her husband stood and walked over to the phone in the corner of the room to begin issuing orders. The coverage of Iowa's launching ceremony continued on the TV. As she watched President McMahon speak, Lana wondered if he really could be the man to start World War Three.

* * *

"We will make her the pride of the Navy, and of the United States!" Captain Bischoff proclaimed, finishing his speech with a flourish and ending that part of the ceremony.

With great pomp and circumstance, the assembled US Navy Band began to play The Star-Spangled Banner. President McMahon led by example, enthusiastically singing along, joined by the entire crew of Iowa.

When the anthem reached its conclusion, Iowa's crew prepared to cheer the final act of the launching ceremony; the champagne bottle being broken against the boat's bow to officially christen her. It was an honour which had been given to Linda McMahon on this occasion. Smiling broadly, she took hold of the bottle when her husband offered it to her, and gave it a hearty swing towards the boat.

The bottle contacted the hull with a hefty clink, but failed to break. Rather than a cheer, there was a collective drawing of breath from the crew. Captain Bischoff closed his eyes for a second.

"Oh, God," Reigns whispered to himself.

The crew members who could manage to look away from the undamaged champagne bottle, which was now swinging idly at the mid point between the boat and the podium, glanced nervously at each other.

A solitary, fearful voice said what everyone was thinking. "We're cursed."


	2. Chapter 2

President Rusev's advisers had managed to talk him out of making the call to Washington and threatening to sink the United States' newest and most prestigious submarine. The hope was that by the time the Iowa was fit to delivered to the US Navy for her maiden voyage, tensions between the two superpowers would have cooled significantly. There could be no guarantee of that though, so Rusev's order to rush every fast attack submarine that Russia owned back into service still stood, and shipyards across the country were already getting to work.

* * *

The crew of the Iowa were also at work, testing their boat's systems on a series of short trial runs. Executive officer Roman Reigns walked into the boat's sonar room. He saw that AJ Styles, one of his close friends and Iowa's weapons officer was already in there, leaning over the shoulder of one of the sonar technicians. Reigns clapped Styles on the shoulder and asked, "Everything okay, Mr Styles?" Protocol had to be followed at all times in front of the enlisted crew members.

"Aye, sir," Styles confirmed, standing upright and smiling. "All systems are functioning perfectly after those last few tweaks we made."

Captain Bischoff's voice came from the doorway behind them. "Mr Reigns. Join me in my quarters please."

Turning around, Reigns saw that his captain had a sheet of paper in his hand, most likely new orders of some kind.

It was only a short walk to the captain's quarters. "Close the door and have a seat," Bischoff ordered when Reigns followed him inside.

Reigns did as ordered, taking a seat on the room's only chair, swiveling it around to face Bischoff, who sat on the edge of his bunk. Reigns knew better than to ask what was on the sheet of paper, knowing that he would be about to find out if he kept his mouth shut.

Raising the sheet of paper in the air slightly, Bischoff said, "This just came through from command. It concerns your promotion to captain."

Reigns knew that there was no reason for his promotion to be denied, but he still felt his stomach try to tie itself in a knot. Bischoff let the silence hang for a moment, then, giving up the game, he smiled and offered his hand for Reigns to shake. "Congratulations, Roman. We both know you deserve it. You'll be a fine captain. You're the kind of man this Navy needs."

"Thank you," Reigns beamed, delighted. Bischoff disliked being called sir by his officers when talking with them in private.

Bischoff brandished the sheet again. "It also says that you are to remain on the Iowa as XO until completion of her maiden voyage, before then being assigned your own Command. I trust you don't have a problem with that?"

"Absolutely not," Reigns agreed.

"Excellent." Smiling once more, Bischoff nodded and gestured towards the door. "That's all. I'd like to be undisturbed for the next two hours. I have a real bastard of a headache coming on."

"I'll see to it. Shall I have Doctor Stratus come by?"

"Nah," Bischoff said with a dismissive hand gesture. "I just need to sleep for a while."

"Two hours then," Reigns nodded and stepped out of the door, closing it quietly behind him.

* * *

Standing in Iowa's control room, Reigns looked up from the chart that he was studying to glance at his watch. It had been more than three hours since Captain Bischoff had requested two hours of privacy. It was very out of character for Bischoff, who usually seemed to never need to sleep while his boat was at sea.

All was calm in the control room, with the boat cruising slowly along at periscope depth. Hunter Helmsley, the Chief of the Boat (referred to as COB) was standing nearby, drinking a cup of coffee. As the COB is an enlisted man rather than an officer, Helmsley was not entitled to be addressed as Mr.

"COB?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Go to the captain's quarters and wake him."

"Aye, sir." Without hesitation, Helmsley left the control room, taking his cup of coffee with him. Reigns returned to studying the chart.

Only a couple of minutes had gone by when the Growler next to him sounded; its ringtone loud and harsh. It was a device used for compartments to speak to each other privately, without using the main address system. Reigns picked up the handset. "This is the XO."

Helmsley's voice came over the line. "Sir, I need you to come to the captain's quarters please, immediately."

Immediately was a strong word to use when speaking to a superior, a fact which wasn't lost on Reigns. "What is it, Chief?"

"Bring Doctor Stratus, sir. It's the captain. He's dead. Looks like a stroke or something to me, sir."

Reigns was unable to reply for a moment as the shock hit him and his mouth fell open. Eventually he managed to mumble, "Very well."

When he replaced the handset and headed out of the control room, the first image that entered his head was that of the champagne bottle failing to break against the hull at the launching ceremony. Four people had been killed in an accident during Iowa's construction, an ensign had been electrocuted to death by a faulty circuit breaker on her first trial run, and now her captain, the man everyone looked up to so much, was dead. It had to be true that the Iowa was cursed.

"It also says that you will remain on the Iowa as XO until completion of her maiden voyage, before then being assigned your own command. I trust you don't have a problem with that?" Bischoff's words from a few hours earlier, repeating themselves in Reigns' head.

This time his response was different. "Yes, sir. I do have a problem with it. We're going to be a fucking ghost ship."

Within the hour, Iowa had been turned around to head back to port. Doctor Stratus had confirmed that Captain Bischoff had indeed died of a massive stroke. The news had been radioed in to command and Admiral Lawler had called an emergency meeting. The Iowa was in need of a new captain.


	3. Chapter 3

The decision regarding Iowa's new captain had taken only two days to reach Reigns after the death of Eric Bischoff; a fact which surprised him a little. Before reading the single sheet of paper which had the news printed on it, he headed for the privacy of his quarters. Once inside, he closed the door behind him and sat down at the desk. Only then did he scan over the message from Admiral Lawler.

With a sigh and a rueful laugh, Reigns closed his fist, crumpling up the paper, and looked up to the heavens. "Good one. You got me. Whatever I did to piss you off in a past life, we're even now, okay?"

Shaking his head, he realised that he should probably have expected the news. It was typical of the McMahon administration that appearance was considered to be more important than any other factor, such as experience. This was President McMahon and his lapdog secretary of defense getting in Lawler's ear, saying, "Imagine how good it would look if we assigned our first ever female submarine captain to the Iowa." As if having the recruitment posters and TV commercials with her face all over them wasn't enough. Allowing women the opportunity to qualify for any rank in the Navy was fair enough, but was all of the fanfare and the recruitment drive really necessary?

' _Maybe I'm being unfair because this is a shit situation for me? It's not like McMahon or Lawler knew about us; and she could hardly turn them down when they offered her the Iowa. This boat is the pride of the Navy. From what I hear, she does know how to command a sub too, even if she'_ _s typically hard-headed about it. Jesus, that's definitely not a surprise. I have to make sure to remain professional about this, no matter how challenging it is. One mission is all I have to get through as her XO, then I'm off the Iowa and in the clear on a boat of my own. It's going to be so fucking awkward though; my ex-girlfriend as my captain. I mean, what the fuck? You couldn't make this shit up if you tried._ '

* * *

Iowa had been in port for a week before Reigns received orders to prepare the boat for the arrival of her new captain later that day. During the previous seven days the boat had been undergoing more adjustments, fine tuning and finishing touches. Reigns had enjoyed his first period in charge of a boat of his own, even though it had been destined to be a short one, and the boat wasn't at sea.

In his opinion, Iowa was in the best possible condition to be handed over, construction work notwithstanding. He was also pleased that the crew were already operating as a well-oiled unit; no small achievement given the relatively short time that they had been together.

After giving all compartments a final once over in person, he headed back to his quarters to change into his dress uniform. There was only one problem on his mind: Engineer Officer Otunga hadn't reported back for duty from his 24 hour liberty pass, which had now expired.

' _Don't make us all look bad, for Christ's sake. Where the fuck are you? You'll start her off with something to be pissed off about, and that's all we need.'_

* * *

Dean Ambrose had been ordered to take the conn while Reigns made his tour of the boat. Taking the conn primarily meant assuming control of issuing orders related to steering the submarine when it was at sea. As the Iowa was currently in port it was essentially an order for Ambrose to remain in the control room until he was relieved by Reigns. Ambrose was Iowa's navigator, one of her four department heads and also one of her most senior officers. Walking over to Helmsley, who was sitting at one of the two stations belonging to the planesmen, whose job it was to control the movement of the boat when at sea.

"How's she shaping up, Chief?"

"She's getting there, sir," Helmsley said pleasantly, not looking away from the equipment that he was in the process of adjusting. "She handles well, considering her size. Having twin screws helps. Having said that, she was a little sluggish when turning to starboard on that last run; likely a minor hydraulic issue. I logged it and it's being looked into as we speak."

"Good job," Ambrose said, a nod accompanying his praise.

As they spoke, there had been the sound of someone climbing down the ladder into the control room, hardly a rarity with so many construction workers and technicians coming and going. An ensign's voice brought both men to attention. "Officer on deck!"

Ambrose turned to see a woman wearing a white dress uniform and a stern expression. The insignia on her uniform denoted her as a captain, not that he needed to rely on that. No one in the Navy could have failed to recognise who she was. Inwardly, he sighed. ' _Fuck's sake. One female captain in the whole damn Navy and they send her to us? Let's get some more fucking posters printed too, shall we?_ '

Displaying none of his reluctance or concerns, he stood to attention and saluted, as did Helmsley who now stood beside him. "Welcome aboard the Iowa, captain."

The captain returned the salute perfectly, but didn't bother to acknowledge the greeting, much less return one. "Where is Captain Reigns?"

* * *

Reigns had only just finished changing into his dress uniform when a loud knock came on his door, which then opened before he could respond. There she was; immaculately dressed and looking as beautiful as ever. It pissed him off that he found himself thinking that, given how much animosity there had been when their relationship had ended. At the same time there was satisfaction that she seemed to think something similar about him for the briefest of moments. He saw it in her eyes before she snapped off a salute and the moment was gone.

"Captain Reigns."

"Captain Rousey," he replied, returning the salute in kind.

"I trust you don't have a problem with this arrangement? Two captains on the same boat is unusual."

"No problem, ma'am. I'm XO for this mission; after that I get my own command. That's what was agreed when I was promoted."

Rousey nodded. "Very well. Off the record: Are you going to give me a hard time? The last thing I need is more of your..."

"I'm here to do a job," Reigns said, letting his impatience show and cutting her off as they were temporarily off the record. "You took this position knowing I was Iowa's XO. If you don't have a problem, why should I?"

"You tell me?" Rousey snapped. "You're the one who ended it."

"I'm not doing this, Ronda. Not now, not ever on this boat. On the record: I can bring you up to speed on the state of the boat and her supplies, captain, if you'd like?"

"Yes. Do so while showing me around." She stood aside to allow to get past and out of the door, not quite managing to remove the glare from her face. "Lead the way. We'll start at the back of the boat and work forwards. I want to see everything, then I want a meeting with all of the officers in the wardroom."

"Yes, ma'am." Reigns walked past her and into the passageway, leaving her to follow him. At least she closed his door behind her.

' _I guess that's the last we'll see of you then, Otunga. Nice knowing you._ '

* * *

Reigns couldn't have known how right he was. Engineer David Otunga was actually several miles away, being cut out of the remains of his car after a nasty four vehicle pile up on the freeway.

"This one's dead," a paramedic said, stating the obvious from his injuries. "That looks like a Navy uniform to me. He was probably on the way to the base just up ahead. Someone better call it in."


	4. Chapter 4

Reigns considered it a pleasant surprise that he'd so far been able to conduct the tour of the boat with barely a word from the captain, other than when she'd greeted the senior man in each division. He knew that was about to change as he walked into engineering though, because Engineer Officer Otunga hadn't reported back to the boat following his liberty pass, which had now expired. One of the four heads of department being absent from the boat was sure to set her off; rightly so, he had to admit. When all was said and done, she was the captain and Otunga's conduct was totally unacceptable.

"This is engineering, Captain," he announced, speaking loudly so that everyone in the large room knew they needed to form up and come to attention.

Rousey scanned around the room, taking in it's impressive array of the latest state of the art instrumentation, dials and panels while the men assembled in a line in front of her, at attention. She looked them over and then glanced at Reigns. There was distinct edge to the question, "Where is the engineer officer?"

Before Reigns could answer, Ambrose's voice came from behind them. He sounded a little shocked, a surprising fact which Reigns picked up on immediately, having served with him on several vessels in the past. As Iowa's navigator, Ambrose was in charge of the radio division. "Captain, a message for you."

Turning around, Rousey took the single sheet of paper that he was holding and read it. When she was done, she held the sheet out for Reigns, without passing comment on it or giving anything away with her expression. Reigns' first thought was that tensions with Russia had escalated in a big way, but when he took the sheet of paper and read it he realised that Ambrose had been shocked for an entirely different reason: Another member of the crew was dead, and this time it was one of the officers.

As he looked back up at Rousey, she gestured to the nearby public address handset which was next to him and ordered "1MC," which meant that she wanted him to set it so that she could address the whole boat. Reigns passed the handset to her and she spoke into it, making sure her voice was both loud and clear. "Crew of the Iowa, this is the captain. I've only just arrived on the boat, and yet it is already my unfortunate responsibility to deliver some bad news to you. One of our crew, Engineer Officer Otunga, was killed this morning in a car accident." She paused for a second, as if thinking of a way to end, and then added, "I will pass on more information regarding the funeral service as and when I receive it."

One of the nearby crew members mumbled to the man beside him, "It's true, we're cursed." Reigns heard it, so he was sure that the captain had too, although she gave no indication of it.

With her announcement complete, Rousey passed the handset back to Reigns. Looking at Ambrose, she ordered, "Make sure we're being sent a replacement engineer officer asap. We've haven't got time for failures in communication. The Iowa launches in two weeks and we _will_ be ready on schedule."

"Aye, Captain." Ambrose turned and left.

Reigns felt himself bristling inside. She seemed too dismissive of the loss of Otunga for his taste. She seemed to view it as more of an inconvenience to the preparations for launch than the loss of a fellow crew member.

"Lead on, Mr Reigns. We've not got all day."

Reigns fought off a sigh as he lead the way out of engineering. His frustrations only increased when the captain icily ordered, "There will be no more talk of curses on this boat. These men and women are members of the US Navy, not fifth graders. This is the fault of you, the officers. We're professionals, so start acting like it."

* * *

The following day, Reigns was in the control room with Captain Rousey and Randy Orton, Iowa's supply officer. They were going over the finer points of the load-out that was beginning to be put aboard; frankly a task which could have been left to Orton as far as Reigns was concerned. The captain, however, seemed to want to have input and the final say on everything, as if there was some kind of point to be proven. Their attention was distracted by someone descending the nearby ladder from the conning tower. The new arrival, a woman, was wearing the uniform of a junior grade lieutenant. She reached the bottom of the ladder, turned, and found herself face to face with her captain.

"Captain!" The woman saluted smartly.

Rousey returned the salute, looking a little surprised by the presence of the young looking, dark haired woman. "You are?"

"Martinez, ma'am. Bayley Martinez." She clearly expected that to mean something. When she saw nothing register with Rousey, she clarified, "I'm your new Engineer Officer." She handed over her documentation.

"Of course you are," Rousey said, failing to hide her scepticism. She glanced at the first page of the documentation: Martinez's orders to report to the Iowa. "What was your previous posting?"

"The academy, ma'am."

"Of course it was," Rousey said dryly. She looked back up at Martinez and said, "Very well, report to your station and take charge of your department."

"Aye aye, ma'am." Martinez started to set of towards the front of the boat.

Reigns cleared his throat, which stopped her as she was walking past him. He gestured towards the back of the boat with his head. "That way."

"Of course," Martinez mumbled, hiding her embarrassment as best she could as she headed out of the control room.

Reigns managed to keep his mouth shut while Rousey finished up her discussion with Orton and dismissed him back to his station. After he'd walked away, Reigns took a step closer to the Captain, so as to be able to speak to her more quietly than usual. There were lower ranks in the room, and this wasn't for their ears. "Captain, allowing someone so inexperienced onto a brand new boat, and one as technically advanced and complicated as the Iowa, might not be the best decision. Maybe we should inform command that we'd prefer to wait for someone more senior?"

As they were standing so closely together and making eye contact, Reigns felt something stirring inside of him. There was definitely a sexual edge to the tension between them. It was no real surprise, given the amount of hot, steamy sex they'd had during their nine month relationship. The sex had never been the problem; it was everything else. They'd never been able to get past the fact that they were such different people, with such different views on the world, and on the Navy. Neither of them had wanted to change, and neither of them had been willing to potentially jeopardise their career in any way. It just hadn't worked at all. But the sex had been amazing...

The slight delay before Rousey responded made him wonder if she was thinking something similar. It was hard to tell, as she didn't let it show in her eyes if she was. Instead, she narrowed them at him as though she thought he might be crazy and said, "Nonsense." Her tone was as dismissive as her expression had now become. "She's qualified, or she wouldn't be here. We don't have time to waste waiting on replacements. Preparations are barely on track as it is. We've been ordered to put to sea in two weeks, and that's exactly what we're going to do. In two weeks, we'll be at sea in the best submarine the US Navy has ever had. We will be the best crew the US Navy has ever had. I will make it so. Do you have a problem with that course of action, sailor?"

"No, captain," Reigns said, leaving a slight edge in his voice. It was about as far as he could go in terms of a protest. He turned and headed for his quarters. Once he was out of the control room and into the relative privacy of the passageway, he shook his head. He wasn't at all surprised by the response he'd gotten from Rousey, but he was annoyed and disappointed by it.

"This could be a very long mission," he muttered to himself.


	5. Chapter 5

Preparations for the launch of the Iowa had been completed three days ahead of schedule. Much to the surprise and delight of the crew, Captain Rousey had chosen to reward them all with twenty four hour liberty passes. Furthermore, she had invited all of the Officers to join her for drinks at the base's exclusive Officers' club. While it was true that some of them would have rather gone home to spend some precious time with their families, no one had turned the offer down. They all recognised the importance of trying to build a working relationship with their new Captain. It was one of the most vital aspects of the successful running of any ship, military or not. The problem was that now that the gathering was underway, the Captain wasn't really getting involved.

"Doesn't say much, does she?" Ambrose asked Reigns, glancing over at her. She was sitting alone at a table in a corner of the room nursing a bottle of beer.

The two friends were sitting together at the bar. Reigns took a sizable drink from his beer and set the glass down on the marble surface in front of him. "Social interaction's not her strong point.

Ambrose grinned at him. "From what I hear, you managed some social interaction with her."

What he was hinting at was obvious to Reigns. His past relationship with his new Captain wasn't quite the secret that he had thought it was. "Don't start talking about that, for fuck's sake."

"Can't have been that bad," Ambrose said, managing to prevent himself from laughing. "I bet she likes it rough, by the look of her. Hell, I bet she took charge of you."

"Shut the fuck up," Reigns said, but he burst out laughing immediately afterwards.

His laughter made Rousey look over towards the bar. Getting everyone to unwind before the mission got underway was a good thing; she was just struggling to do so herself. Taking charge of the Iowa's maiden voyage was a huge responsibility to have weighing on her shoulders, especially with the current tension between the US and Russia. She would never let on to her crew that she had anything less than total confidence in herself though. Waiting was actually the worst part for her. Once the mission was underway, she was sure that she and the rest of the crew would do their jobs more than adequately. When all was said and done, they were all professionals.

A bottle of beer crashed down onto the table, startling her. Its owner sat down opposite her. "Hello, Captain. You looked a bit lonely back here."

Rousey's first instinct was to bark at the offender to go away, but that would have been counter-productive. The entire point of arranging this night out was to make the crew a little more at ease with their new Captain. "Martinez. Bayley, right?"

"That's right," Martinez confirmed with a smile. She seemed pleased to have her name remembered by the Captain. It reminded Rousey that the woman in front of her was not only inexperienced, but young too. She was the youngest of Iowa's officers by some margin.

Deciding to try and give her a boost of confidence, Rousey asked, "How are things shaping up in your department? Any concerns with the boat?"

"No, Captain. No concerns I mean. Everything is running like clockwork and we have some excellent, talented crew members. We're all set to go when the time comes."

"Excellent. You're doing a good job, Bayley. Your first mission will be a tough one; it's the same for everyone. I want you to know that you don't have to be afraid to come to me if you need to. If there's something you think I should know about or might need to deal with, I want you to get on the PA or if need be come and find me right away."

"Thank you. I'll be sure to do that." Martinez paused for a moment to drink some of her beer and Rousey did likewise. "Captain?" she began again, hesitantly. "I heard two stories about your father. One was that he was one of the finest Captains the US Navy has ever had. The other was that he committed suicide after disgracing himself on a mission."

Rousey maintained eye contact, but displayed no particular emotion while she downed the rest of her beer. As she put the empty bottle down on the table, she said, "They're both true."

Unsure what to say to that, Martinez finished off her own drink and gestured to Rousey's bottle with her own. "Can I get you another?"

"Sure."

Martinez stood and headed for the bar, leaving Rousey to silently and sarcastically thank her for the reminder of yet another reason that she had to make sure that the Iowa's maiden voyage was completed without any mistakes being made. Many of the higher ups in the Navy recognised her as a very talented Captain, which was obvious from the fact that she had been assigned to the Iowa, but there was still a certain stigma to the name Rousey for those who knew what had happened on her father's boat. She would not make the same mistakes that he had made, no matter how tough it meant that she had to be with her crew. When she had told Reigns that she would make them the best crew in the Navy, she had meant it. Both they and the boat itself would be put through their paces fully on the upcoming mission.

At the bar, Ambrose was halfway through telling Reigns a hilarious story about a time when he had been at a bachelor party and had mistaken a real female police officer for a stripper and had almost started trying to take her clothes off.

"That's when I realised she really wasn't a stripper. It turned out that she'd walked in to ask someone to move a car that was parked in the street, and I'd nearly gotten her tits out for her."

Reigns roared with laughter again as he pictured the scene. While he was laughing, his attention was drawn to the TV behind the bar. It was showing a national news channel and a Breaking News announcement had just flashed up on the screen, along with a map of Russia with one particular area on the east coast highlighted in red. The TV's volume was muted, but the headline on the screen had killed the humour instantly.

 _Breaking News: Rebel uprising in Russia._ _Naval and nuclear missile bases seized by forces under the command of radical former Soviet Army General, Vladimir Kozlov._

Signalling to the bartender, Reigns said, "Hey, can you turn that up?"

The bartender didn't reply, but he walked over and turned up the volume on the TV. A female reporter was in the middle of speaking. The audio quality wasn't great. Reigns could tell that she was using her cell phone to deliver her news.

"...unclear exactly how many men, or indeed women of the Russian armed forces have decided to join forces with Kozlov. What we do know is that after a short period of fighting, they have seized control of a large naval base on Russia's east coast. The base is currently operational and is, according to a source within the Russian government, the home of several fast attack submarines. These submarines are believed to now be in the hands of the rebels."

A male presenter's voice came next. "Thea, we're also hearing that the rebels have seized an adjacent facility, and this is really troubling news."

"That's right, Michael. Not far from the naval base there is another installation which is now also under Kozlov's control. Our sources are telling us that it is a nuclear missile base, and that live missiles _are_ currently housed there. Again, this comes from a source within the Russian government, who was keen to stress that the launch codes for the missiles have _not_ been compromised."

"A very serious situation indeed," the presenter opined.

"Very serious, yes. What we don't know as of yet is exactly what the reason is for this uprising or what General Kozlov's intentions are. We can only assume at this time that it relates in some way to..."

"Sorry, Thea," the presenter cut in. "We're going to have to leave it there because we have more breaking news. General Vladimir Kozlov has just released a video message regarding today's incident. I think we're able to... Yes, we're going to play that for you now."

Some rather amateurish looking footage began to play. It showed a very mean, very Russian looking man with short dark hair. He spoke in English with a thick accent and a lot of anger and vitriol in his voice.

"My comrades and I have taken action today. We have decided to do what our spineless so-called President Rusev has failed to do. We will make a stand against the Americans and against the aggressive policies that President McMahon has towards Russia. We demand that all United States embargoes are withdrawn immediately. We demand that all acts of military aggression by the United States of America cease right away, including aircraft flying into Russian airspace. And we demand that the United States newest first strike weapon, the USS Iowa, shall remain in port. Failure by President McMahon to comply with all of these demands will result in the strongest action possible being taken against the USA. We have nuclear weapons and we are prepared to use them."

Kozlov's ranting continued, warning President Rusev against mounting any kind of offensive to try and take back the bases which he now controlled. Having heard the report, Captain Rousey had walked over to join her Officers as they crowded around the bar. Several of them had gone pale at the mention of nuclear weapons being used against their country.

Iowa's Weapons Officer, AJ Styles looked at the Captain and said, "What do you think the President will do, ma'am?"

The honest answer was that she had as much idea as the rest of them, but she couldn't say that. It was instinctive for her crew to look to her for answers, and it was her job to act like she had them, even when she didn't. "I think this is the United States, AJ. We don't take orders from Russians. The Iowa will sail on schedule."

Within a few minutes, which were spent with everyone nervously talking over the developments in Russia, she was proved wrong. She was talking to Randy Orton, Iowa's Supply Officer, when his cell phone began to sound a message alert tone. He took it out of his pocket and looked at the display, then up at Rousey. There was no need for her to ask any questions. Other phones in the room began go off, then she felt her own vibrating in her pocket and managed to pick out her own message tone among the others.

"Alright, let's move!" she ordered loudly, already heading for the door. The Iowa wouldn't be staying in port; she wouldn't be sailing in three days; she would be sailing as soon as her crew could get on-board.

* * *

Powerful floodlights pierced the moonless night, illuminating the Iowa and the side of the dock that she was moored in. The crew were all assembled and standing to attention; Officers at the front of the group, enlisted men and women behind them. Only three people were not part of the group: the Captain, the XO and Chief Helmsley. They stood on a small podium which had been erected next to the gangway.

"Crew assembled and accounted for, ma'am," Helmsley announced loudly.

Rousey surveyed her people for a few seconds before beginning her address. When she spoke, she kept her voice loud and clear and left slightly longer pauses in between sentences so that those at the back of the ranks could hear her and take in what she was saying.

"Ladies, gentlemen, crew of the Iowa. There's trouble in Russia. Rebel forces have seized a naval base and a nuclear missile base and have threatened to strike against the United States. We're currently at DEFCON four, so they've called on us. We're about to put to sea in the most lethal killing machine the world has ever seen. Should the order be issued, we have the capability to launch more firepower than has ever been released in the history of war. In the event of war, the Iowa will constitute both the front line of attack, and the last line of defense."

She let that sink in for a moment before continuing. "The first priority on this mission is to put the boat through its paces, and to do the same thing for the crew. We have the best boat in the Navy. You have been given the honor of being her crew. I have been given the honor of being your Captain. That means that while this might be our Commander-In-Chief's Navy, this is my boat. I expect and demand one hundred per-cent from each and every one of you, at all times. If you're not capable of that, you should have joined the Air Force."

The entire crew laughed - most of them not even having to force it. Taking jabs at the Air Force was second nature to Navy personnel of all ranks.

"Chief of the Boat, dismiss the crew."

"Dismiss the crew. Aye aye, ma'am," Helmsley replied, as loudly as before. "Department heads, attend to your departments! Crew, fall out!"

With a loud cheer, the crew set about boarding their boat. The mission had begun.

* * *

Captain Rousey and XO Reigns were sitting in silence at the top of Iowa's sail as the boat purred it's way out of the narrow estuary which had lead them from their dockyard out into the open sea. The boat's engines were on their lowest power setting; generating only a faint hum which was barely noticeable at the top of the sail over the sound of the small waves washing against the bow.

"Quiet, isn't it?" Rousey murmured. "Quiet and beautiful."

"It is," Reigns agreed pleasantly. Choosing not to add anything else, he sat back and enjoyed what he knew could be his last moments of real relaxation and the last breaths of fresh sea air that he would get for a long time. A minute or so went by in a silence that, if anything, felt companionable to Reigns.

"Roman?"

He wasn't entirely sure why, but the pleasant way that she said it made him think that she was going to bring up their failed relationship, in a positive way. He imagined that she might be about to say that if they were not serving together, they could try to make another go of it.

"Ronda." He used her name as an encouragement for her to say whatever was on her mind.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying, "It's good to have someone like you as XO. Dive the boat." Just like that, the moment was gone and she was back to business.

Although he could tell that she had changed her mind about what she was going to say before going with that, he made no mention of it. "Dive the boat, aye." He picked up the public address handset from in front of them. "Control, bridge. Sounding."

"Bridge, control," Ambrose's voice came back a moment later. "Sounding 120 fathoms."

Reigns turned to the two enlisted men who were standing at the opposite end of the sail to where he was sitting. "Lookouts, clear the bridge."

"Clear the bridge, aye, sir," one of them acknowledged.

They walked over and climbed down through the open hatch. Captain Rousey followed close behind them, followed lastly by Reigns, who closed the hatch and secured it while ordering, "Officer of the Deck, prepare to dive."

"Aye, sir." The diving alarm began to sound and Ambrose announced, "The Captain has the conn."

Taking control, Rousey ordered, "Diving Officer, submerge the boat. Make your depth 150 feet. Five degrees down angle on the planes."

With that, the Iowa began to slip beneath the waves for the first time as a US Navy vessel. It was a sentimental moment for Reigns. Even though this would be his only mission on the Iowa before taking command of a boat of his own, he was still very proud of her. There were also those crew members who had recently passed away to think about; people who should have been there to savor the moment as he was.

There was also the possibility that if the rebel forces under Kozlov's command decided to escalate things further and start a war, that one of his top piorities would be to find the Iowa and sink her. It was impossible not to think that there was a chance that none of them might come back from this mission. In turn, that made him think of the curse that had been inflicted on the Iowa by the unbroken bottle of champagne. A traditional seafarers hymn came to mind as the Diving Officer announced that the boat was now submerged.

 _Almighty Father, strong to save,_

 _Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,_

 _Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep,_

 _Its own appointed limits keep:_

 _O hear us when we cry to thee,_

 _For those in peril on the sea._


	6. Chapter 6

Captain Rousey and some of Iowa's senior officers were eating dinner together in the Officers' Mess. It was the afternoon of their first full day at sea. The department heads had just finished updating the Captain on how things were going so far. All of the news had been positive, which seemed to have pleased her somewhat.

"Okay, gentlemen," she said after swallowing a mouthful of roast chicken. "These are our current orders. We are to proceed to, and then under, the arctic ice cap, putting the Iowa through her paces along the way. When we're on station beneath the ice, we are to remain there on patrol. That is, unless the situation with this Kozlov lunatic has been resolved before then. Starting shortly after we're done here, we will be conducting regular drills to ensure that we're operating at maximum efficiency. I expect you to clamp down on any complacency in your departments."

XO Reigns drank some of his coffee with a slightly concerned look on his face. "It might be a be a better idea to ease them into it, Captain. They're a new crew, on a new ship. Give them some time to acclimatise a little."

The immediate response was a dismissive hand gesture. "If this Russian clown decides to escalate things, we won't be acclimatising to anything. We'll be at war. This isn't the time to be gentle with the crew. The Iowa needs to be operating at maximum efficiency asap, and that's exactly what's going to happen. You are the officers. You are responsible for the performance of your people. Start leading by example."

Thirty seconds of silence followed that, with everyone suddenly seeming to be very interested in their food. "Do you really think this could end in nuclear war?" Batista eventually asked her, poking some of his food around his plate with his fork.

"Do I think it _could_ end in nuclear war? Yes. I don't think it will though. It's one thing for Kozlov to talk a good game on some video, trying to act like he's in a pissing contest with President McMahon. It's another thing entirely to launch nuclear missiles at us."

"But what if he does? What if the President orders us to fire back?"

Rousey raised an eyebrow a little as if the question surprised her. "Then we fire back. We're not out here to make decisions, Dave. We've been given a boat. We sail it where we're told to, and we do what we're told with it. If the order comes for us to launch, that's exactly what we'll be doing. You know that as well as I do."

Wanting to change the subject, Reigns asked, "What about those attack subs that Kozlov's people have access too? He specifically demanded that the Iowa remain in port. We have to assume that he's going to have his people try and sink us if they get the chance."

Calmly chewing on another mouthful of chicken, Rousey said, "Then we'll have to make sure we're better than they are, won't we?"

* * *

"I have the conn," Rousey announced as she walked into the control room later that day.

"The Captain has the conn," Ambrose acknowledged, handing over control to her. She had been resting in her quarters for just over and hour and the XO was off duty, so he had been left in charge. He provided her with an update on the situation. "Current depth 300 feet, Captain. Speed 14 knots. Steady on course for the ice, as you ordered. No sonar contacts, and no radio messages."

"Very well, Mr Ambrose," Rousey nodded, satisfied. "Let's put her through some maneuvers, shall we? Ahead flank, left full rudder. Let's see how well she can turn."

Chief Helmsley repeated the orders as the relevant men at the controls began to carry them out. "Ahead flank, left full rudder, aye."

Flank speed was the highest setting for the engines. There was a very noticeable sensation of acceleration as well as a significant increase in the noise of the engines as the boat's two huge turbines and propellers began to power them through the water. Everyone in the control room had grabbed onto something because they knew what was coming next. The hard left turn kicked in, and the boat heeled over at a steep angle.

Elsewhere in the boat, there was no warning of the turn. Reigns was using his off duty time to get in some exercise, jogging around the lower decks. When the boat pitched over, he nearly flew off his feet. Only grabbing onto a nearby guardrail managed to save him. "Jesus fucking... What the hell is she doing?"

The boat leveled off, but then pitched downwards at very steep angle. Still holding on to the guardrail for dear life, Reigns heard the sound of crockery and glassware smashing in the nearby galley, followed by panicked shouting. Then someone screamed the worst word that it was possible to hear on a submarine.

"Fire! Fire!"

As soon as the boat leveled off again he rushed into the galley and saw several crew members struggling to get a rather large fire, which had engulfed one corner of the galley, under control. Dashing back out into the passageway, he picked up the nearest public address handset and set it to call the control room exclusively. "Conn, this is the XO. Fire in the galley!"

In the control room, Rousey picked up her own handset and used it to address the whole boat. "This is the Captain. We have a fire in the galley. Forward damage control team, I want you down there right away with extra fire extinguishers. XO, get that fire out. Use the suppression system if you can."

"Yes, ma'am, I hadn't fucking thought of that," Reigns growled sarcastically under his breath as he began to put on some breathing apparatus, a fireproof jacket and matching pants that he had just grabbed from a nearby storage locker. It took him a minute to get suited up. By the time he dashed back into the galley the fire was raging even harder and the room was rapidly filling with smoke.

One of the Iowa's female chefs was spraying a fire extinguisher on the blaze, to very little effect. The rest of the galley's staff had already retreated out into the passageway. The makeshift firefighter was coughing heavily from breathing in the smoke. "We can't control it sir, and we can't get to the suppression system! It's in that corner!"

Recognising the young woman even through the smoke, he shouted, "Get out of here, Banks! I can get to it!" Without waiting for a reply or even to fully think through his own actions, he took a deep breath for courage and then charged straight for the flames. All he could focus on was that they had to get to the suppression system and get the fire out before it really took hold. Even waiting for the team that the Captain had just dispatched could prove to be too long a delay.

Despite the intense heat and the fact that for a moment he was almost engulfed in the flames, he managed to make it into the corner of the room and slammed his huge fist into the button which would activate the fire suppression system. It was over almost before he could realise what he'd just done. Powerful jets of water sprayed out of nozzles in the ceiling and extinguished the fire in a matter of seconds. By that time, Reigns had staggered back out into the passageway and sank to a sitting position with his back against the guardrail that he'd been holding on to only a couple of minutes earlier. He was soaked from head to toe and the fireproof outfit he'd put on was singed. Only then did the team that the Captain had sent to deal with the blaze arrive, fully geared up.

"Fire's out," Reigns told them breathlessly as Banks helped him to remove his breathing apparatus.

"That was crazy, sir," she told him with admiration. "Incredibly brave, but crazy."

One of the new arrivals was on the PA system, telling the Captain that the XO had got the fire out. He then advised that Reigns seemed to be okay, but should be looked at by Doctor Stratus anyway to be on the safe side.

"Very well," Rousey's voice came back, addressing the boat as a whole again. There was no sign of concern in her voice. "Damage control team, asses damage and report back. Doctor Stratus, report to the galley and attend to the XO."

"I'm alright," Reigns insisted to everyone around him. "It maybe wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I'm okay. Damage control team, stay in the galley and keep watch for a while in case it flares back up again. We don't know what caused it the first time."

By the time Doctor Stratus arrived he had made his way into the nearby sleeping quarters and sat himself down on the bottom bunk of a bed. He let her go ahead and examine him and answered her questions honestly, but his mind was occupied by trying to figure out how and why the fire had started. None of the chefs had been able to tell him.

 _What is it about this fucking boat? The first day at sea and we have a fire, and no one even knows why. It's not as though throwing her through that turn and that dive could be expected to cause it. I wouldn't have done it without warning the crew first, but there was nothing actually wrong with what the Captain did. She didn't do the trial runs, so she needs to get a feel for the maneuvering. In an emergency we'd need to move like that and we'd have no reason to suspect that the galley might set on fire. It's just this fucking boat. No wonder everyone thinks it's cursed. We could have had more deaths just now, maybe including me._

* * *

Things were much calmer in the control room. Iowa was now back at cruising speed and had returned to her original course. Rousey pulled a digital stopwatch which was attached to a cord out of her pocket. After removing her cap which bore the crest of the Iowa, she looped the cord over her head so that she could wear the stopwatch rather than having to hold it. Looking at Ambrose, she started the stopwatch running and ordered, "Initiate weapons system readiness test." For the benefit of everyone else in the control room, she announced, "For the purpose of this exercise, Mr Ambrose is the XO."

Ambrose was surprised that she was choosing to run a drill right after a fire had just been put out, but he didn't hesitate before acknowledging the order. "Aye, ma'am." He walked over and typed a command into one of the control consoles.

Within seconds, the voice of Byron Saxton, Iowa's most senior radio operator came over the PA system. "Conn, Radio. We have an incoming emergency action message. Recommend alert one."

"Alert one," Rousey ordered into her own handset. "Man battle stations missile for system readiness test. Spin up all missiles. This is an exercise."

* * *

"I'm going to clear you to go back on duty," Doctor Stratus was saying to Reigns. "Next time, wait for the damage control teams rather than rushing head first into a fire, okay sir?"

The admonishment had a touch of humour to it, so Reigns smiled and said, "You got it, doc."

It was at that moment that the Captain's order of alert one and manning battle stations for a missile drill came through. Growling to himself, he charged for the door. "What the hell is she running a missile drill now for?"

On the way past, he poked his head into the galley where the damage control team were still on watch. "Everything okay in here?"

"Yes, sir. No sign of the fire flaring back up again."

"Stay here until the drill is over."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

An authentication code was required to verify any emergency action message relating to the launch of missiles received while the boat was at sea. To make sure that any drills the Captain decided to run were accurate, Iowa was also issued with authenticators for drill purposes. They codes were printed on coloured cards; red for real messages, blue for drills. They were sealed inside plastic containers and locked in a safe in the weapons room.

When Reigns walked into the control room, Weapons Officer AJ Styles had just walked in from the other end, carrying the authenticator and a printout of the emergency action message. "Request permission to authenticate, Captain."

"Permission granted, authenticate." The only acknowledgement that Reigns' arrival got was when she turned to Ambrose and said, "Return to your station, Mr Ambrose."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ambrose left the control room while Styles read out the code on the authenticator, comparing it to the one on the printout. Reigns looked over his shoulder, as his approval would also be required. "Bravo, Echo, Bravo, Charlie, Alpha, Echo, Delta, Alpha, Charlie, Charlies, Zulu, Alpha, Bravo, Bravo." The codes matched. "Message is authentic."

"I concur, ma'am," Reigns said.

Rousey nodded and said, "Message is authentic."

Styles held a single silver key out towards her. It was attached to cord similar to the one that belonged to her stopwatch. She looped it over her head to wear it in the same manner, as Styles said, "Your Captain's missile key, ma'am."

With that, Styles left the control room to return to his station. Rousey was back on the PA. "Set condition 1Sq for weapons system readiness test. This is the Captain. This is an exercise."

Although he didn't want the drill to go ahead with the danger of the fire flaring back up in the galley, Reigns didn't hesitate before repeating the order. "Set condition 1Sq for weapons system readiness test. This is the XO. This is an exercise."

When he replaced the PA handset, he decided to try and get her to stop the drill. Out of respect, he kept his voice quiet so that only she could hear what he said. Questioning the Captain in front of any of the crew was seriously frowned upon. "Captain, the fire in the galley could flare back up at any moment..."

"Now is not the time," she said dismissively, with an accompanying glare. To the rest of the control room, she ordered, "Make your depth 150 feet. All stop."

"Make my depth 150 feet. All stop. Aye, ma'am," Helmsley acknowledged.

Rousey was back on the PA. "Weapons, Conn. Simulate pressurising, all tubes."

"Conn, Weapons. Simulate pressurising, all tubes, aye," Styles replied. His men were already busy at their stations, inputting the necessary commands.

"Report approximate time to 1Sq," the Captain demanded of him.

Checking his own equipment, he replied, "Estimated time to 1Sq, sixteen minutes, Captain."

Back in the control room, Helmsley announced, "Leveling off at launch depth, ma'am. Ready to commence hovering."

"Commence hovering."

"Commence hovering, aye."

The next seventeen minutes passed in near silence in the control room. The only only exception was when Reigns radioed down to the galley to check in with the damage control party, who reported no change.

Styles eventually came over the PA and reported, "All missile tubes at 1Sq, Captain. All missiles at 1Sq. Weapons system is at 1Sq."

"Depth is at 1Sq," Helmsley confirmed next. "Ship is hovering. Missiles ready to launch, ma'am."

Rousey clicked a button on her stopwatch to stop it and showed the display to Reigns with a disgruntled shake of her head. "This is not good enough. I want at least two minutes taken off this time." Addressing the rest of the boat via the PA, she announced, "The drill is complete. Secure from battle stations." With that, she made to leave the control room. "The XO has the conn."

"I have the conn," Reigns acknowledged, watching her go with a look of annoyance and frustration on his face. In his opinion, her man management skills were severely lacking and she was in danger of pushing the crew too hard. Focusing on the mission was only one of the responsibilities of a Captain; looking after the men and women of all lower ranks was also crucial. If she carried on being so tough on everyone, he was concerned that something worse than a galley fire might happen before the mission was over, and he'd already had more than enough of deaths among the crew of the Iowa.

* * *

Captain Rousey was drifting in and out of restless sleep in her quarters. She was lying on top of the blankets on her bed, still dressed in her uniform. A soft knock on the door made her give up on getting any rest for the time being. "Enter," she croaked out as she sat up and propped herself up against the wall, using her pillow for a back support. Her weak voice made her realise that she needed a drink.

The door opened and Reigns walked in. "Excuse me, Captain. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You can lose the formality when it's just the two of us. Hand me that cup of coffee over there."

"Alright," Roman said. There was a half finished cup of coffee sitting on her desk. There was no warmth to the cup when he picked it up. "It's cold."

"Who cares?" She took the cup from him and downed its contents in one hit. It didn't take much of her brain power to figure out what this little chat was going to be about. In her opinion, it was typical Roman. "Take a seat," she told him, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk.

Roman spun the chair around to face her and sat down.

"Would you have run that missile drill earlier, Roman?"

"No I wouldn't," he replied without hesitation.

"Why not?"

"The fire in the galley could have flared back up at any moment. I'd have given it at least an hour and then I'd have run the drill if there had been no further problems."

"I'm sure you would have," she replied, making it sound like criticism. "I actually thought it was the perfect time to run a drill. We could get the call to fire our missiles five minutes from now, or not at all. There's no way to tell. One thing is for sure though: if we are called on to go to war, they won't be making sure it's convenient for us first. If those Russians sons of bitches manage to get their hands on those launch codes, they can have missiles in the air within an hour. We'll need to have acted first by then. Sitting around with our thumbs up our asses because a fire might break out in the galley will not be an option. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Roman managed to reply, somehow keeping his frustration under control. That alone was worthy of a medal, in his opinion. It was more than obvious that there would have been no point arguing the point with her. He knew that she wasn't a listener in either her professional or personal life, which was one of the main reasons that they were no longer in a relationship.

Another knock came on the door. "Quite the party we'll be having in here before long," Rousey quipped, and then called out that whoever it was could enter.

The door opened and Styles walked in, offering a sheet of paper to the Captain. "An emergency action message just came through, ma'am."

"Thank you, Styles." Her expression of gratitude was actually more of a dismissal, sending him back to his station. She took the sheet off paper and spent a moment reading it. When she was done she passed it to Reigns without offering comment. As he began to read it for himself, she walked out into the passageway to make an announcement to the entire crew on the PA system.

"Crew of the Iowa, this is the Captain. Your attention please while I brief you on an emergency action message that we've just received. As you know, before we left port, General Kozlov had made threats to launch the nuclear missiles that he has access to at the United States if the Iowa sailed, or if President Rusev attempted to mount an offensive against him and his people. The only safeguard that we had was that Kozlov's people did not possess the launch codes for the missiles. Intelligence now indicates that those launch codes _have_ been compromised. President McMahon has decided that should our satellites detect any missiles being fueled, we will be compelled to act first. For that reason, we've been instructed to set DEFCON three. The last time we hit this state of readiness was on 9/11. This is the real deal, ladies and gentlemen. This is what you've all been trained for. That is all."

As she listened to the Captain's announcement, Engineering Officer Martinez had to put her cup of coffee down. Her hands were shaking too badly for her to be able to avoid spilling it.

* * *

The next morning, before going on duty, Captain Rousey was enjoying having the Officers' Mess to herself while she ate breakfast. So far, although she wasn't totally satisfied with the performance of the crew, she had to be pleased that the mission was proceeding as scheduled and without any complications with the boat itself. They would soon be on station beneath the arctic ice cap as ordered.

Oh, good morning, Captain," Martinez said with a hint of surprise as she walked into the room.

"Martinez," Rousey replied pleasantly enough, but without paying much attention to the new arrival.

Martinez poured herself a cup of coffee and walked over to where her Captain was sitting. "Can I ask you something, ma'am?"

"Sure," Rousey agreed, suppressing her irritation purely because it was her most junior officer who was asking.

"I've been thinking about our orders and about going to DEFCON three," Martinez said as she sat down opposite her superior. "There's a real possibility that we'll be called on to launch missiles at Russia, yet we're going to be stationed beneath the ice. Why?"

"Because they hopefully won't look for us there," Rousey said around a mouthful of buttered toast. "Kozlov's people have attack subs under their control, and they'd just love to stumble across the Iowa. What they won't expect is for us to be hiding somewhere that we can't launch from."

The answer had left Martinez more confused rather than less. "But, what if they order us to launch and we need to do it quickly, but we're under the ice so we can't?"

"Two options there, Martinez. Option A: We stay reasonably close to the edge of the ice so that we can stick our noses out and fire quickly enough to get our birds to Russia before they can launch. Or option B."

"What's option B?" Martinez asked eagerly. Although she was confused, she was enjoying her visit to the learning tree. In her estimation, Captain Rousey was a stern leader, but she was also incredibly clever and good at her job. There was a lot of knowledge there that she should try and take in which could do her a lot of good in her later career, and she knew it. At times during the mission she had found herself feeling scared, even terrified when the order to go to DEFCON three had been announced, but she was trying her best to hold it together by telling herself that this was her first mission on a submarine. The first of many, she was sure.

For the first time on the mission, Rousey smiled. "You'll find out later."


	7. Chapter 7

"We're under the arctic ice field now, ma'am," Helmsley reported with evident satisfaction.

In all his years in the Navy he had never seen a Captain drill a crew so often and as hard as Rousey had during this mission so far. Part of him actually liked it, and so did some of the other men. It gave them a challenge to rise to. Others of course, hated it. Although they wouldn't dare say it to her, they viewed their Captain as a woman doing a man's job, who therefore had a point to prove as was putting them through an excessive amount of work as a result. As Chief of the Boat, he had made to stamp on that nonsense whenever he'd heard it. Whether the crew liked her style or not, Rousey was their Captain and therefore worthy of, and entitled to, the utmost respect.

Despite the time spent on the drills, the Iowa had just reached the ice cap slightly ahead of schedule, which was the reason for his satisfaction.

"Very well," was the only acknowledgement he received from her. It didn't surprise him. By now he was already learning to look for recognition of work well done in her tone rather than in the words she chose to use. It had been there that time, which made him want to smile in a strange kind of amusement. She was an unconventional leader, but he was happy to work under her.

"Ahead two thirds," Rousey ordered next.

"Ahead two thirds, aye."

The boat began to slow down as ordered. Now that they were on station, their orders were to patrol until receiving further orders.

Only a few minutes had gone by when the voice of Seth Rollins, Iowa's senior sonar operator came over the PA system, speaking quite urgently. "Conn, Sonar. Contact, bearing 250. Range 15,000 yards." A moment later he added, "Contact is submerged and moving fast. Classify as Russian Akula class submarine. It could be one of Kozlov's, ma'am!"

Rousey had already reached that conclusion herself and barked out, "All stop! I want absolute silence!"

"All stop, aye," Helmsley acknowledged quickly.

Meanwhile XO Reigns got on the PA system and set it to communicate with the entire boat. "All stations, maintain absolute silence," he ordered, keeping his voice lower than normal.

Iowa's two enormous propellers had stopped rotating, leaving the boat to eventually glide to a stop. It hadn't happened often so far on the mission, but Reigns found himself acknowledging that he would have done the same thing as Rousey in that situation. Her plan was simple: Leave the Russian boat, which would struggle to hear anything with its own sonar as it was traveling at high speed, to pass by them, while they sat there in silence.

Captain Rousey had quietly stepped out of the control room to go to the sonar room. She walked in and crouched down beside Rollins, who was listening intently to his headset. "What's he doing, Rollins?" she whispered to him.

"Continuing on his course. Speed unchanged," he replied at an equal volume. "He didn't hear us."

"Lock his signature into the computer," she ordered.

"Aye, ma'am."

With a simple command typed into his equipment, the audio signature of the Russian submarine was saved for future reference. If they encountered the same boat again, it would be recognised immediately.

"Contact fading away," he was able to announce at last.

Rousey walked back into the control room and ordered, "Secure from silent running. Ahead one third."

Reigns repeated the order to the entire crew. Within moments, Iowa was back on patrol. In a first as far as the mission was concerned, Rousey turned and briefly flashed a smile at him. Knowing what she was feeling, he nodded and returned it. They had just encountered the enemy for the first time and had easily bested them. He couldn't help wondering though, if there would be a second time. And if there was, would they have it so easy?

* * *

"I have the conn," Rousey said as she returned to the control room following a bathroom break. There had been no further drama after the brief encounter with the Russian submarine a couple of hours earlier.

"The Captain has the conn," Reigns replied easily.

"Mr Reigns, what is the thickness of the ice here?"

Although he found the question a little odd, Reigns went and found a chart which showed the estimated thicknesses of the ice sheet. After finding their location, he announced, "Approximately two metres in this area, Captain."

Her next words, although they were delivered with her usual calm but authorititive style, stunned him to the core, partially because they came from nowhere and partially because they were close to insanity as far as he was concerned.

"Ahead two thirds. Make your depth 1600 feet. Ten degrees down angle."

"That's close to hull crush depth," he blurted out before Helmsley could carry out the order. He knew that the deeper the boat went, the more pressure the water placed on the hull. There was a certain point where the water pressure would exceed the strength of the hull, which would mean that Iowa would disintigrate and the crew would be killed instantly.

"I'm aware of that," Rousey replied with condescending tolerance. "Mr Helmsley, if you please."

Helmsley was looking the Captain right in the eyes. He remained that way for a second, which made his own thoughts as clear as he could risk without being relieved from his position and put on a charge. "Ahead two thirds. Make my depth 1600 feet, aye," he said hesitantly. "Ten degrees down angle."

Iowa began to descend into the depths. Over the next couple of minutes the tension in the control room became palpable, as it did elsewhere on the boat. It had escaped no one that they had been diving for a significant amount of time.

In Engineering, Martinez was trying not to let on that she was on the verge of panic. It was all she could do to stop herself from closing her eyes. It wasn't an option though as the enlisted men under her command would see her weakness.

"How deep are we going?" one of them asked her.

"I don't know," she managed to reply. "But it's deep."

At that moment the hull gave it's first brief, dull groan as the increasing water pressure exerted itself on it. Martinez gripped onto the edge of her workstation so hard that her knuckles turned white.

"Passing 1200 feet," Helmsley announced in the control room, reading from the digital display at his station.

The hull began to groan more and more often as they got deeper. Each one varied in length, tone and volume, but they were all equally as terrifying to Martinez, who thought that she might throw up at any moment.

"Passing 1500 feet," Helmsley said, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.

Reigns just stood there, saying nothing despite how tempting it was. For him, Rousey had gone too far with this move, trying to prove that she had bigger balls than anyone else on the Iowa. He took a deep breath as Helmsley announced, "Leveling off at 1600 feet."

"All stop," Rousey ordered.

"All stop," Helmsley repeated.

The sound of Iowa's engines faded out, leaving them in silence. Everyone in the control room who could see it was looking at the display which showed their depth. It read 1601 feet.

"My God," someone murmered, as if they were somewhat surprised that they were not dead already.

Rousey picked up the PA handset and addressed the whole crew as the hull gave another long, menacing groan. "Crew of the Iowa, this is the Captain. Our orders were to test the boat to its limits during this mission. Our current depth is 1600 feet."

She paused for a moment as she knew that there would be a lot of muttering and gasps throughout the boat at that news. Martinez thought that she might be about to piss herself when she heard the announcement, and wished right then that she had never joined the Navy.

"We're at DEFCON three," Rousey continued. "That means that the order to fire our missiles could come at any time. If Kozlov decides to launch at the US, we'll have one hour to strike first. That means I want us to be able to get our birds in the air as soon as possible, should we be ordered to fire. I don't intend to spend half an hour of that precious time traveling to the edge of the ice sheet."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I told you that we have been given the best boat in the Navy and that you would become the best crew. This is why I have drilled you so hard during this mission. You have all responded well, and you can all be equally proud of what we're about to achieve."

Finished with the announcement, she replaced the handset and with a look of sheer determination her face, ordered, "Ahead full. Emergency surface."

"Ahead full, emergency surface," Helmsley repeated.

Iowa began to pick up speed and started her ascent to the surface. Within moments she was fairly rocketing upwards, and it dawned on Reigns what his Captain had in mind. More unnecessary craziness, in his opinion.

"Recommend staying below the ice, Captain," he said as they shot up through the 800 feet mark.

"Negative," she replied calmly.

"Captain, hitting the ice is an unnecessary..."

"Shut up," she ordered, plainly irritated.

"Captain, I really must..."

"Shut the fuck up!" she growled at him.

"Passing 300 feet," Helmsley announced.

Glaring at his Captain, Reigns turned and stormed out of the control room. Leaving his station without permission while on duty was a serious offense, but at that moment he didn't care. If Rousey wanted to smash the boat up and put the mission and the crew in danger then she could do it without him.

Glaring furiously after Reigns, Rousey grabbed the PA handset and announced, "All stop. Crew, prepare for impact."

In Engineering, Martinez had given up trying to put a brave face on her fear. She was holding onto her station as hard as she could and had her eyes closed as tight as could be. She just wanted it to be over.

"It's okay, ma'am," one of her enlisted men told her quietly, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. "This is some rough shit to go through on your first time on a boat."

She really appreciated the support, but she didn't get the chance to reply as at that moment the Iowa's sail made first contact with the ice sheet.

Although the engines had been stopped to prevent them from suffering damage during the collision, Iowa was still traveling at high speed when she hit the ice. Everyone in the boat was hanging on tight against the vibration, which felt like being in an earthquake.

On the surface, a large crack began to appear in the ice. Within seconds it got wider and wider until Iowa's sail smashed through, quickly followed by the rest of her enormous deck. With no power actually being put into driving the boat forward, the ice soon caused her to grind to a halt.

In the control room, Rousey picked up the PA handset again. "Crew of the Iowa, we are now on the surface."

A roar of delight, mixed with a sense of relief sounded throughout the boat, with almost everyone joining in. In Engineering, Martinez was joining in with her men. The relief that she felt was joined by a sense of achievement. She had just been through something that she would have thought wasn't possible, for herself or the boat.

Back in the control room, Rousey wasn't done with her announcement. After waiting for the cheering to die down, she continued, "Crew members who are not on duty can leave the boat for some fresh air for half an hour. They will then change over with those who are currently on duty."

Another cheer echoed through the boat. Half an hour of fresh air and exercise was a very welcome thing for a submariner. "That is all," she said and replaced the handset. As she did so, the angry expression returned to her face and she marched out of the control room in the same direction that Reigns had left in a couple of minutes earlier.

Reigns was pacing around his quarters, to the very limited extent that it was possible. Whether the crew had cheered Rousey's actions or not, he was furious with the reckless way that she chose to conduct her operations at sea. Enough was enough, and this last stunt was way more than enough. When his door flew open, he knew who it was before he even turned around to look.

"You will be in my report for leaving your station," Rousey snarled at him, almost squaring up to him after slamming the door closed behind her.

"And you will be in mine," he growled right back at her with equal anger in his tone. "You endangered the boat, the mission and the crew. One day your luck is going to run out. I hope that when that happens I'm on another boat."

The tension was radiating between them, and they both knew what had to happen next. They could see it in each other's eyes. There was no avoiding it. Regulations could be damned.

Reigns wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her tightly too him, and they began to kiss with a passion that made them almost frantic. He forced her to take a couple of steps backwards so that her back was pressed against the door. As her hands began to work on unfastening his pants, he locked the door. Now nothing and nobody could stop them.

* * *

Half an hour later, one half of Iowa's crew were about to come back onto the boat following their seemingly very brief time on the ice. The other half of the crew, who were now allowed their own half hour of leisure, had just joined them. Rousey, Reigns and Helmsley remained on the sail, so that the boat wasn't unmanned. One of the enlisted men had found a camera from somewhere and shouted out for everyone to gather round.

Rousey was looking through a set of binoculars, scanning the horizon, not that there was anything to see other than ice, and more ice.

"One of the men is going to take a picture," Reigns said to her, pointing down at the man with the camera, who was still trying to organise everyone.

"Good," she replied, nodding as she put down the binoculars. "When we get back from this mission, we'll have large print of it framed and hung in the Enlisted Men's Mess. You might not like my methods, Roman, but I made a crew out of these people today."

"Everyone ready?" the ship's new cameraman shouted, now that everyone had gathered around in front of the boat. The Captain, XO and Chief Helmsley were in the shot too, at the top of the sail, along with the flag of the United States. The picture was perfect. He pressed the shutter button, and with that the moment was captured forever.


	8. Chapter 8

"We are now submerged, Captain," Helmsley reported. "Descending to 150 feet."

"Very well," Rousey acknowledged. "Ahead two thirds."

Iowa had just descended back through her hole in the ice. The Captain had ordered that they were to resume their patrol and wait for further communication regarding the troubling situation in Russia. There was now a different feel about the boat; morale had skyrocketed thanks to the sense of achievement that had come from smashing the boat through the ice. Half an hour of leisure time off the boat for everyone on-board had helped too.

"Ahead two thirds, aye," Helmsley said. "Leveling off at 150 feet."

In the sonar room, Rollins' screen suddenly lit up, displaying the unmistakable form of a submarine in red. The signature next to it made his blood run cold. "Conn, sonar," he yelled into his PA handset. "Holy shit, ma'am. It's Kozlov's Akula. Range 9000 yards. He has to have heard us."

"Where the fuck did he come from?" Rousey demanded of Reigns, although the question was pointless. Picking up her own handset, she replied to Rollins. "Sonar, conn. What's he doing? Is he turning towards us?"

"Not right now, ma'am. Wait... Yes! He's turning towards us!"

Rousey began quickly barking out orders, having them repeated and put into action by Reigns or Helmsley where appropriate. "Battle stations. Ahead full. Come right to course 145 and take us down to 600 feet. Flood stern torpedo tubes and plot a solution, but do not open the torpedo tube doors."

Her decisions had been calculated to let the Russians know that they would retreat, but that they were prepared to return fire if attacked. The Russian sonar operator would identify the sound of Iowa's torpedo tubes flooding, but would also note that tube doors remained closed. It was like someone pointing a gun at you with their finger on the safety, but not taking it off. Even with these measures, Iowa was at a real disadvantage. She was absolutely enormous compared to the Russian boat, as they were built for very different purposes. The Akula was designed to attack submarines or ships, whereas Iowa was designed to carry missiles. This meant that the Russian submarine was a lot faster and much more maneuverable.

The right turn and change in depth were also calculated decisions. When she had studied the chart of the local area when the had been surfaced, she had noticed that there was a very deep canyon nearby. Her intention was to take Iowa in there and use it to flee, if possible. If the Russians followed or tried to attack, then a different course of action would be necessary.

Suddenly, while the crew charged around the boat to get to their battle stations, Saxton's voice came over the PA from the radio room. "Conn, radio. We have an incoming emergency action message. Recommend alert one."

"Alert one," Rousey ordered into her handset, silently cursing the timing of the message as well as the presence of the Russians.

"Conn, sonar," Rollins voice came through again. "He's flooding his tubes, ma'am."

"Has he opened his outer doors?"

There was a second of silence, then Rollins yelled, "Torpedo doors opening! Torpedo in the water! Second torpedo in the water!"

The Russians had fired on them. Rousey could hardly believe it, but she had to deal with it. At that moment, Saxton walked into the control room with the print out of the emergency action message and an authenticator. It was supposed to be Styles job to authenticate the message, but he was unable to leave his station in weapons while they were in combat.

Rousey issued more rapid fire orders. "Ahead flank. Level your planes, chief. Take us along the canyon. Open stern torpedo tube doors and fire both tubes when ready. Prepare to launch countermeasures. Mr Reigns, authenticate the EAM."

Helmsley rapidly issued her orders to the men at the controls while Reigns and Saxton started to go through the process of authenticating the message that they had just received.

Iowa was now speeding along the canyon, which was only three times as wide as she was, with the Captain's hope being that the Russian torpedoes would fail to acquire them.

Everyone in the control room felt the boat shudder once, and then again a moment later. "Conn, weapons. Torpedoes launched, Captain." Batista reported.

Rollins' voice came next. "Conn, sonar. One Russian torpedo heading south of us, but the other has acquired. Repeat, one torpedo has acquired us and is homing."

"Prepare to launch countermeasures," Rousey barked out, repeating an order that she had already given.

"Countermeasures standing by, ma'am," an enlisted man replied.

"Message is authentic, Captain," Reigns said, holding the sheet of paper out to her, although he wished that he wasn't required to bombard her with more to think about at this critical time.

She took the sheet from him and held onto it, but didn't read it. Her focus was on keeping them alive. Walking over to the chart table, she demanded, "Mark our exact position." An enlisted man did as she asked. There was a sharp right hand turn in the canyon up ahead and they were approaching it fast.

"Sonar, conn. Time to torpedo impact?"

"45 seconds, Captain."

Looking at the chart himself, Reigns had to take in a deep breath. They were traveling along the canyon at maximum speed, heading straight for a sheer rock face. His instincts told him what Rousey was going to do. He knew that if she miscalculated by so much as a few seconds they would do the Russians' job for them and sink the Iowa by smashing her to pieces on the canyon walls.

"Launch countermeasures," Rousey ordered next.

Helmsley acknowledged the order and the boat shuddered again as two devices which looked like small torpedoes were launched. They began to spin around in circles, causing significant disturbance in the water. There was a chance that the torpedo which was bearing down on them would focus on that disturbance and would then lose the Iowa as it came out of the other side.

"Torpedo has passed our countermeasures and has reacquired us," Rollins announced soon afterwards, now sounding fearful. "Impact in 25 seconds."

Rousey was back at the chart, leaning over it and muttering to herself under her breath. Reigns and Helmsley glanced at each other, wondering if she had lost her mind.

"We need to ascend or turn," Reigns told her urgently. "Ascend and get us out..."

Rousey held her hand up to silence him, but didn't look at him. She now seemed to be counting to herself, but she still gave no order.

"Impact in 15 seconds!"

"Right full rudder!" Rousey yelled. "Twenty degrees up angle! Brace for impact!"

The boat heeled over to the right and began to ascend. No one inside her hull could tell how close they were to colliding with the canyon wall. In fact they came within inches, and it was this that gave them a reprieve from the torpedo. It tried to follow Iowa as she turned and ascended, but it clipped the top of the canyon wall and detonated itself. From inside the boat, the impact of the thunderous explosion, which reverberated through the hull still felt like they'd been hit. The control room shook to the point that it was hard for anyone who was standing to remain on their feet.

"All stations, report any damage!" Rousey yelled into her handset. Then to Helmsley, she ordered, "Keep your rudder right full. Swing us around to face the Akula. Flood tubes one thru four and open outer doors. Prepare for a snap shot."

A male voice came over the PA. "Conn, maneuvering. We've lost propulsion in the port turbine. Repeat, we're running on starboard turbine only, ma'am."

"Very well," Rousey acknowledged, then changed the setting on her handset to speak to Engineering exclusively. "Engineering, conn. Martinez, go to maneuvering and get that turbine working again."

"Aye, Captain," Martinez acknowledged quickly.

Batista's voice came through next. "Conn, radio. Something's fused out in her here ma'am. All of our equipment is out. Working to rectify now."

"Very well," Rousey acknowledged again, then got back on to Rollins. "Sonar, conn. Status of our torpedoes?"

"Closing on target now, ma'am. Impact in 25 seconds. The Akula has fired countermeasures and is trying to evade by going shallow." There was a pause while everyone waited to hear updates from him. "Ten seconds to impact," was the next one, followed by, "First torpedo followed his countermeasures and has missed. Second one is going to be close."

There was no need to report anything else, as the enormous explosion of Iowa's torpedo hitting the Russian sub was heard clearly by everyone on board. Wild cheering and celebration broke out throughout the boat. Reigns exchanged a smile with Rousey and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Contrary to most of the rest of the mission, he thought that she had dealt with the last few minutes with great nous and courage, as proven by the sinking of the Russian boat. There was no way it could withstand a direct hit from one of the torpedoes that Iowa carried.

"Ahead one third," Rousey ordered, also offering Chief Helmsley a smile.

"Ahead one third, aye," Helmsley nodded, feeling immense pride at what his boat, his crew and his Captain had just pulled off.

As the sound of the explosion faded, Rollins put his headset back on, expecting to hear the sounds of the Russian submarine breaking up and sinking. Those sounds were indeed there, but so was another. "Conn, sonar," he yelled urgently. "Another torpedo in the water, Captain! He must have got a shot off just before we hit him!"

"Ahead flank!" Rousey barked at Helmsley. "Take us deep, Chief! Fire countermeasures asap."

Helmsley relayed the orders, but Rousey feared that they wouldn't be enough. Iowa was already half crippled with only one of her propellers turning, limiting her speed and maneuverability considerably. The boat shuddered and Helmsley announced, "Countermeasures launched, ma'am."

In sonar, Rollins removed his headset again. If they somehow survived the incoming torpedo, he didn't want to be deafened by its explosion. "This one's going to be really close," he told the Captain.

"Brace for impact!" Rousey ordered her crew for the second time in as many minutes.

Iowa was diving as fast as she could, and the Russian torpedo did fall for the countermeasures, but even so, when it detonated itself it was really close to rear end of the submarine. On-board, almost everyone who was standing was thrown from their feet as the explosion hit them, even harder than the first. As she climbed to her feet, Rousey saw that thankfully no one in the control room appeared to have sustained any serious injuries.

"Everyone okay?" she asked, loudly enough for all to hear. A collection of positive responses came her way. Grabbing the PA handset, she ordered, "All stations, damage report."

Martinez was the first person to reply. "Conn, maneuvering. We've taken a battering back here, Captain. We've lost the other turbine. Repeat, we have no propulsion. And I have two men with nasty head wounds."

The news of the injured crew members was bad, but the loss of propulsion was much worse. Iowa was still in the dive that she had ordered to avoid the torpedo, and without propulsion there was no way to pull out of it.

Helmsley confirmed her analysis almost instantly. "Captain, we're going down. Without propulsion we'll keep going down until we reach crush depth."

"Recommend blowing all ballast, Captain," Reigns said from nearby. He'd taken a bang to the head himself as a result of the explosion. His right eye would be a mess in a day or so.

"Blow all ballast," Rousey ordered, her voice quieter than usual as the reality of the situation sank in. Martinez, the most inexperienced officer on the boat, had a matter of minutes to fix whatever was wrong with at least one of the propellers, or they were all dead. Blowing the ballast wouldn't be enough to stop Iowa descending, but it would slow her somewhat.

"Ballast blown, ma'am," Helmsley said, looking at his depth indicator. "We're still descending. Passing 1000 feet. If we hit 1800, it's all over."

A male voice came over the PA. He was having to shout over the terrifying sound of rushing water. "Conn, bilge bay! We've got out of control flooding in the forward bay! No way we can stop it!"

"Bilge bay, conn," Rousey responded. "Get out of the bay and seal it, asap."

"I've got three men in there, ma'am!"

"What's your name, sailor?"

"Ryder, ma'am!"

Rousey was made sure to emphasise the importance of her order. "Ryder, get those men out and seal that bay. We need it sealed, now." In the background she could hear men shouting in panic over the sound of the water, presumably trying to stop it somehow.

"You've got to get out!" Ryder was screaming at them. "We've got to seal the bay!"

"Captain," Helmsley urged her as gently as he could. "If we're going to survive this, we've got to..."

Rousey knew full well what had to be done. It was the hardest order she would ever have to give. "Mr Ryder. Seal that bay. Now."

"You've got to get out," Ryder was screaming at his colleagues, his voice breaking at what he was being asked to do.

"Ryder..." Rousey began again.

"There's three men in there," Ryder pleaded with her.

"Ryder, if you don't seal that bay, we're all gonna die."

The PA went silent. Rousey couldn't imagine how hard it was to be in Ryder's position at that moment. She could imagine him giving the other men another few seconds to get out of the bay, which had to be almost full of water by now, before having to do something that would haunt him for the rest of his life, sealing them in there to drown.

Ryder's voice came back on the PA. "The bay is sealed... ma'am."

The final word was delivered with such anger and pain that it cut her like a knife. She couldn't blame him; she felt the same way herself. Looking at Reigns and Helmsley, she saw that they felt awful for her and also for the three men who were currently drowning in the bowels of the boat.

It was all she could do to acknowledge Ryder. Even when she did, he might not have heard her as her voice was barely above a whisper. "Very well."

"Passing 1200 feet," Helmsley read out, with resignation.

All Rousey could do was get on the PA to Martinez. "Maneuvering, conn. We need one of those turbines, Martinez."

"Working now," Martinez replied a moment later. She sounded like she was concentrating and panicking in equal measure.

Only then did Reigns feel it was the right time to remind her that she had the emergency action message scrunched up in her hand. He already knew what it said, and she hadn't needed that on her mind while trying to focus on saving the boat, which still hadn't been achieved.

"Captain, the EAM."

"Right. Thank you Mr Reigns."

After opening out the sheet of paper, she read the message. When she was done, she looked up and their eyes met. She looked the way he felt. Saxton, on behalf of Weapons Officer Styles had given him something to hand to the Captain when she was ready to act on the orders. Holding it out to her, he said, "Your Captain's missile key, ma'am."

Having orders to focus on actually helped Rousey in a way. She was the Captain. If they did survive the next few minutes, she had a crew to lead and a mission to execute. She picked up the PA handset.

"Secure from battle stations torpedo. Man battle stations missile. Set condition 1Sq for strategic missile launch. Spin up missiles one thru five and twenty six thru thirty. This is not a drill. The release of nuclear weapons has been authorised. This is the Captain."

Passing the handset to Reigns, she said, "The XO has the conn. I'm going to maneuvering."

"Captain," Reigns said, stopping her in her tracks. She turned back to look at him and he offered the best advice he could think of that might save their lives. "Don't yell at her. Help her."

"Right," Rousey nodded and walked out of the control room.

"Passing 1250 feet," Helmsley said.

Reigns began to repeat the order to launch ten nuclear missiles at Russia, wondering if they would even live to have the opportunity to fire them. Part of him even wondered if it was better if they didn't.


	9. Chapter 9

When Rousey arrived in maneuvering, she found a scene that could only be described as chaos. Thanks to the impact of the explosion from the Russian torpedo, smashed equipment, tools and papers were strewn all over the floor. The two men who had been seriously injured were also lying on the floor. At least Doctor Stratus was there, attending to their head injuries as best she could.

Martinez had her people working on repairing one of the turbines, presumably the least damaged of the two. One of them had to be repaired to working order within the next few minutes because the Iowa was slowly sinking and would eventually reach hull crush depth if propulsion wasn't restored. Quickly surveying the scene, Rousey saw that there seemed to be more panicking and shouting going on than organised repair work.

"Martinez!" she called out, plenty loud enough to be heard.

Everyone in the large room realised that the Captain was there and silence immediately descended. Martinez walked over, her hands and face covered in some kind of grease or oil. "Captain. We're not getting..."

"Listen to me," Rousey cut in, being firm, but also reassuring. "I put you on this boat because you're qualified to be here. You are an Officer in the US Navy and you are an excellent engineer. We need this turbine fixed within the next two minutes. You're in a shit situation, with a lot of pressure on your shoulders, but you can do this, yes?"

Martinez seemed to find some composure and determination from somewhere. It showed in her eyes as well as her voice as she said, "Yes, Captain."

"Good," Rousey said, slapping her on the shoulder. "Go supervise your men."

Despite the desperate situation that they were in, Rousey found herself smiling as she walked away because she could hear Martinez barking orders at her men, like a real officer. There was a chance.

* * *

"Passing 1450 feet," Helmsley was in the middle of announcing when Rousey walked back into the control room.

"I have the conn," she said, hoping that there would prove to be a point in taking it back.

"The Captain has the conn," Reigns said. Then, walking over to her, he quietly asked, "How was it back there?"

"A mess," she almost whispered back. "But Martinez has her people working. Hopefully they're quick enough."

Styles voice came over the PA system. "Conn, weapons. Time to 1Sq, twelve minutes."

"Passing 1500 feet," Helmsley said. He was starting to sound resigned to their fate.

The only other sounds in the control room were the groans from the hull as the water pressure increased second by second.

"Passing 1550 feet."

Rousey was starting to think about what she could say to her crew to tell them how proud she was of them before they all met their end, but then they all heard the distinctive sound of one of the engines coming back online. Cheering erupted throughout the boat again.

"Propulsion restored, Captain," Martinez announced over the PA, with a mixture of relief and pride.

"Take us up, Chief," Rousey ordered quickly. She then picked up her handset and set it to speak to Martinez exclusively. "Thank you, Martinez. Excellent work. Help the doc tend to your men."

"Yes, Captain. We're running on the starboard turbine. No chance of fixing the port turbine this side of a dry dock. I think the shaft is bent, and the motors are wrecked too."

"Very well," Rousey said, taking in that information. They were alive, but the boat was severely damaged. Ordinarily, the first order of business would have been to radio in a report and then head for home as best they could. Now though, there were other orders at hand. "Is flank speed possible on the starboard turbine, Martinez?"

"Possible, but not recommended."

Possible was all that mattered. They had orders to launch missiles, which meant that they had to smash through the ice again. Limping out of the ice field on one turbine would take way too long.

"Ahead flank," Rousey ordered. "Emergency surface, Chief. We need to get through that ice."

Because they had already done it once before, everyone knew what to expect this time when they broke through the ice. Luck was on the side of Iowa and her crew for once as they happened to be under a relatively thin section of the ice field, which was easy to get through. Rousey had ordered all stop as they neared the ice, so when the it slowed them down, they finally came to a stop on the surface.

"Weapons, conn," Rousey said into her handset. "We're on the surface. Time to 1Sq?"

"Time to 1Sq, ten minutes, ma'am," Styles replied.

Still standing beside her, Reigns said, "Captain, recommend reconfirming our orders before launching. Our radio equipment has been down for a while and our orders could have changed."

Rousey considered that suggestion. Regulations stated that orders in hand were to be acted upon unless newer orders had been received which superseded them, but they were talking about launching ten nuclear missiles at Russia. Once they left the Iowa there was no way to call them back. Countless millions of people would die. What if they launched and an order to stand down had been sent to them but not received? The Russians, whether it was Kozlov or Rusev, would fire in retaliation. The end of the world would have been caused by the Iowa.

"You're right," she decided and picked her handset up. "Radio, conn. Reconfirm our launch orders."

Batista's voice came right back. "Conn, radio. Our equipment is still down, ma'am. We have no way of carrying out your order at this time. Working on repairs as fast as we can."

"Very well. We need those orders confirmed by the time we're at 1Sq, Dave."

"Aye, ma'am."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Styles' voice came over the PA. "Conn, weapons. Missile tubes one thru five and twenty six thru thirty at 1Sq. Missiles one thru five and twenty six thru thirty at 1Sq. Weapons system at 1Sq."

"Boat is surfaced, Captain," Helmsley said. It was stating the obvious, but it was part of the procedure. "Missiles are ready to launch."

Rousey had a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. With the turn of a key and the push of a button, she could now launch missiles that would kill millions of innocent people. The decision to launch was not hers, but in a way the responsibility for it was on her shoulders. Reigns had definitely been right when he had suggesting reconfirming their launch orders before carrying them out. They couldn't afford to be wrong on this one.

Picking up her PA handset, she got on to Batista. "Radio, conn. I need those launch orders confirming, yesterday."

"Conn, radio," he replied a moment later, sounding like he was in the middle of doing something which he didn't need to be distracted from. "Still working, ma'am. We're going to need five minutes."

The pressure on Rousey was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was all she could do to keep her voice calm and authoritative, which certainly wasn't how she felt at that moment. "The last message that we got said that Kozlov's men are fueling their missiles, Dave. Unless that's changed, we need to take them out before they can launch. We may have been ordered to stand down while we were dealing with the Akula. If we launch and Kozlov has surrendered then we start world war three. We can't be wrong on this, either way. And we don't have time to wait. I need that radio, Dave. Now."

"Yes, ma'am," Batista replied.

Three minutes dragged by in a silence that was so heavy that it felt like it could have been cut with a knife. Then Batista's voice came back on the PA. "Conn, radio. Radio equipment back on line, Captain. Receiving an emergency action message. Recommend alert one."

"Alert one," Rousey ordered. "XO, go get the EAM."

"Yes, ma'am." Reigns rushed out of the control room. He returned a few moments later with Styles and an authenticator.

"Permission to authenticate, Captain," Styles requested.

"Permission granted, authenticate."

Styles cracked open the authenticator and compared the letters printed on the card to those at the top of the message. "Echo, Delta, Echo, Bravo, Alpha, Alpha, Charlie, Alpha, Delta, Echo, Alpha, Bravo." The codes matched. "Message is authentic, Captain."

Reigns had watched Styles closely as he worked and compared the codes for himself. "I concur, ma'am."

"Message is authentic," Rousey nodded and took the sheet of paper when Styles offered it to her. Everyone in the control room and indeed the entire crew waited to hear what the announcement was going to be. She read the sheet of paper carefully and then handed it to Reigns.

He read it over for himself and then looked up at her with an expression that was hard for the rest of the people in the room to read.

"On the 1MC, Mr Reigns," she ordered him. He set the PA system to communicate with the entire boat and handed her the handset. "This is the Captain." In the ever so brief pause between sentences, the tension seemed to rise to an unprecedented level throughout the boat. "Terminate launch, all missiles."

A roar of approval and relief reverberated around the Iowa. The crew exchanged relieved smiles, handshakes or hugs with each other. They had all realised that the last thing they actually wanted to do was launch the missiles that their vessel carried. It took thirty seconds for the celebration to die down enough for Rousey to continue. She let them have at it rather than order silence. There was a lot of tension that needed to be released.

"When Kozlov started fueling his missiles, forces under the control of President Rusev stormed the bases that he had seized and retook them. Kozlov was killed in the fighting and the missiles are now being defueled. Mr Batista, radio in a report of our encounter with the Akula, tell them that we're badly damaged, running on one damaged turbine and request an escort back to port." After a brief pause, she finished her order with a heavy heart. "And tell them that we've lost three men, drowned in the bilge bay. I'll get their names to you asap so that their families can be notified. That is all."

Replacing the handset and turning to Helmsley, she ordered, "Dive the boat, Chief. Make your depth 150 feet. We'll wait here for our escort."

"Aye, ma'am," Helmsley said, with a nod of respect at the way she had handled the intense drama of the last half hour.

* * *

It took seven hours for the Navy to get one of their 688 class attack submarines to the Iowa's location to escort her home. When the smaller boat, the USS Bremerton, had gotten within a reasonably close range, Batista had started speaking with his opposite number to guide them in close. When this was done, Bremerton's Captain was able to contact Iowa directly on the Growler, which was essentially an underwater short range telephone system.

When the call came through to Iowa's control room, Rousey picked up the device's handset. She knew the Captain of the other boat quite well. Steve Borden was one of the Navy's most experienced and popular skippers. "This is the Iowa. Captain Rousey speaking."

"This the Captain Borden on the Bremerton. How's it going over there, Ronda?"

"We've taken a battering, Steve. Two near misses with Russian torpedoes, both of which exploded close to our stern. Our port turbine is out of action and unrepairable at sea. Starboard turbine works, but we can't risk putting too much power through it. Request that you escort us back to port. We'll be slow, but we can get there."

"You got it," Borden acknowledged compassionately. He knew that having her boat damaged would feel like having a child in hospital for Rousey. It was one of the worst things that could happen to a Captain. He also knew that she had lost three men on the current mission, which would be infinitely worse. Bringing that up wasn't something that he was going to do, however. "Get underway when you're ready and let us know what speed you're capable of, and we'll stay with you."

"Copy that, Steve. And thank you. Iowa, out," Rousey said, and hung up the receiver.

Letting out a sigh, she turned to Helmsley. "Take us home, Chief."


	10. Chapter 10

_Two weeks later_

Rousey had spent the entire morning in a military courtroom. The fact that an inquiry had been called to look into the events of Iowa's maiden voyage had come as no surprise to her, given that three of her crew had lost their lives and the boat had almost been sunk. While being cross examined on her conduct and the way she had gone about her orders was unpleasant, she had nothing to be ashamed of, in her opinion. Events had dealt a shit hand, which she and her crew had tried to overcome as best they could.

A panel which consisted of three Admirals, lead by Admiral Lawler, had listened to her testimony and now had the option of calling in one or more, maybe all, of her officers to go through the same process with them. When that was done, they would reach a decision on whether she had acted improperly, or contributed in any way to the near disaster that had happened two weeks earlier. If they did find her guilty of wrongdoing, her Navy career would be finished.

What worried her now was that they had just called Reigns into the room to give his evidence. She had clashed frequently with her XO during the mission and he had been openly critical of her style of leadership and some of her orders. If anyone was going to speak out against her, it was going to be him. Standing in front of the panel of Admirals, she watched Roman walk into the room out of the corner of her eye. He wearing his full dress whites, as was required. Seeing how great he looked reminded her that they'd also had sex during the mission. It was highly doubtful that he would bring that up though, as that would be a huge black mark on his record as well as hers.

Reigns stepped up next to her and saluted the Admirals.

"Captain Reigns, you know why you're here," Lawler began. "This is an inquiry into the events which lead to the loss of three crew members on the USS Iowa on July 19, and also the near sinking of the same vessel on the same date. We've heard reports of tension between you and Captain Rousey during the mission, so is there anything you would like to say regarding her conduct before we go any further?"

Rousey took in a deep breath, dreading what might come next. She could clearly remember the words that he had snarled at her just before they'd had sex in her quarters. "You endangered the boat, the mission and the crew. One day your luck is going to run out. I hope that when that happens I'm on another boat."

"There is something I'd like to say," Reigns began. His voice grew assertive, becoming of a Captain, as he continued. "None of you have the right to sit there and judge Captain Rousey on what happened that day. None of you. You weren't there. You can't even imagine the amount of pressure she was put under. We had a Russian Akula firing torpedos at us, twice. We evaded them. At the same time, orders came through for us to launch nuclear missiles at Russia."

"We took severe damage from torpedo explosions which crippled the boat and left us heading for the bottom. There was out of control flooding in the bilge bay. Captain Rousey had to give a man an order to seal three sailors in that bay to drown, in order to save the rest of us and the boat. I know giving that order will live with her for the rest of her life, even though there was no other choice."

"Then she had to go to Engineering to help our young Engineer Officer, who did an outstanding job by the way, to compose herself and repair one of the turbines before we dropped to crush depth."

"When the turbine came back online, we had to smash the Iowa up through the ice to be able launch our missiles. We weren't one hundred per cent sure that the launch order we'd received still stood, as the radio equipment had all been damaged by the torpedo explosions. Captain Rousey took the courageous decision not to act on the orders that she had in hand, and instead waited five minutes for the radio equipment to be repaired. If she hadn't done and we had launched, we would have started World War Three."

"So what I have to say about Captain Rousey's conduct that day is that she was outstanding, in an unprecedented situation. She lead us all through it. She was our Captain. She was my Captain. And it would be an honour to serve with her again."

To emphasise his point, he turned to face Rousey, stood to attention and saulted her. It was against protocol, so she couldn't return the gesture, much as she wanted to, but she appreciated his words more than he would ever know.

"Thank you, Captain Reigns," Lawler said dryly. "I think you've made your point."

* * *

Not long after Reigns had given his glowing testimony, the panel had decided that no further testimony was going to be required. The inquiry had been concluded, with no wrongdoing found on Rousey's part. She was dismissed to report back to the Iowa, which was undergoing repairs in dry dock. When she walked out of the building where the inquiry had been held, she saw Reigns waiting at the bottom of the steps.

"Thank you for that, Roman," she said as she walked down towards him.

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true," he smiled. "They sent you back to the Iowa, right?"

"Damn right they did," she smiled back. "She's my boat. I'm back there tomorrow. And from what I hear, you'll have your own real soon?"

"That's right," Roman said proudly. "I've been assigned to the Dallas, as Captain. She's going through a refit right now, but when that's done, she's mine."

"Congratulations. You deserve it," she replied graciously.

"Thank you."

There was an awkward silence. The conversation had come to an end, but neither of them seemed to want to walk away. Looking up at him, Rousey found herself wanting to kiss him. It couldn't happen, she told heself. At least, it couldn't happen where they were.

"I was going to get something to eat," she ventured. "I should probably buy you something after what you said in there."

Reigns could clearly see that eating wasn't really what was on her mind, and he could tell what was. It was fine with him. "I could eat something," he agreed easily. They started to walk away, side by side, and he said, "It might be considered innapropriate if anything happened between us."

"Why?" She looked up at him. "We're not on the same boat anymore."

"Good point," Reigns said, meeting her eyes and smiling.

END


End file.
